After Doomsday
by peachlongingsky
Summary: Set post season 4. This is a snippet of Nikita and Michael's life after they've defeated The Shop and life is well again. This is my first time ever writing fanfic. Please be kind ;)


They were snuggling in a hammock, the one they bought out of whim because Nikita couldn't help to wonder 'how come people enjoy laying down on a safety net' and Michael insisted it _is _fun, laying down in there, swaying, under soft breeze (and maybe doing something else on it, but he didn't say it out loud.)

Nikita was laying beside him, her head on the crook of his neck, his right arm enveloping her, while she fiddle with the two rings on her finger, fancying the feel of the two rocks, one jaded, one smooth.

"What was it like out there?" he suddenly asked.

"Huh?" she responded distractedly.

"On the run."

She was silent for a while, contemplating what to tell him.

"Actually it was not all that different from when we were running from Division. Only this time almost all people actually know my face on the news, so… the laying low was much tougher."

He kept silent. Unconvinced.

She sighed. "Getting food and shelter was hard. After my money ran out, I… started picking pockets. The trick is to buy everything you need in the afternoon, when the sun is almost setting. People are tired already at that time of day, and the murky light helps. But on a bad day, when people started to stare and wonder, I could go days without food. I was lucky though, it wasn't winter."

He was still silent. She knew he wanted to know more.

"There was one time I almost... I was at a bar one night, trying to gain some information about some gang. I ran out of ammo and my knife was lost in a fight. My arm… was wounded, from the same fight, it hasn't healed, but I had to get the info fast. My wound was pretty bad, and it started swelling so... I … thought maybe through the gang I could find some meds. Well, a drunk gang member tried… hitting up on me… to put it mildly. I shied away but he insisted, so I had to put him down. Lucky he was drunk."

Nikita let out a nervous chuckle and stole a glance to the man beside her. He was gazing up. She wondered if there were some specific stars he interested himself into. She knows though in her heart, that this is hard for him. To let what once was his greatest fear, maybe still is, to be laid out in the open. But he wanted to know, she knew that, so she went on.

"But the bartender recognized me. Started shouting, telling people to grab me. I ran. Some guy tried to stop me with a knife, but I ran past him. The knife did cut my side though. I ran and ran, my hands on my right side, tried to stop the bleeding. After a while I was tired. Oh… so tired. I haven't eaten in… two days. My body was warm even though I was shaking. I couldn't walk anymore so… I found this crook between two buildings, and I decided to… settle there." she paused.

"I thought I was gonna die. There, alone. I thought maybe that was it, Amanda won in the end. When she told me to choose between the president and you, I thought, even if you live, we would never be together. That my life was over. But then I didn't kill her, and I thought then maybe… we had a chance. Even after I ran, I… I still hope at least I'd see you again. That was what kept me going. But that night in that alley, everything felt so cold. And so far. Closing my eyes was so easy. And I thought, my life was over indeed. It was over since the day I left you. But you were save. That was the only way I could think of to keep you from dying with me in that alley."

"I missed you, Michael. So much. You… you've got no idea." She remembered that day so vividly. The wound still fresh. Not the cuts, scar was all that's left of it now. But the loneliness, so tangible she could almost touch it. Like she thought she could almost felt Michael's arms around her that day if she just close her eyes and pretend.

"There was a kid, about twelve I think. A larger boy was mugging her, tried to take whatever little she can give. I was so tired, but I thought, _you… you _would still come to her rescue. So I picked up a rock by the street and hit the boy's head. It was all the strength I had left, but the girl… She saved me. I don't know if she recognized me, but she saved me anyway. Gave me some food and tended my wounds."

After a few seconds of silence she called him. "Michael," she looked at him, still gazing up high. She put her hand on his cheek and made him look at her.

The moment she looked into his eyes, she finally understood just how much pain she inflicted on him the day she left him. The hurt, the betrayal, the worry, the fear. She understood because she felt it to. The separation from the one thing keeping you alive.

She moved her face closer to him "Michael, I'm sorry."

He put his hand on her waist, drove it up to her shoulder, finding her neck, caressed her cheek, and put a stray hair behind her ears.

"I… I won't survive something like that again," he finally whispered. His vulnerability crushed her. The strongest person she knew. But he might not survive it after all. She knew for sure she won't.

"Promise me you'll never do that again. Whatever happens" he grabbed the hand lying on his cheek.

"Promise" she smiled half a smile and closed the gap between their lips.


End file.
